Spring After Winter, Sun on Leaves: The Kingly Gifts-Waking Day Fusion
by dreamflower02
Summary: This story is a fusion of two of my previously posted stories, "Kingly Gifts" and "Waking Day", with some edits and a tiny bit of new material; both of them are Cormallen fics covering some of the same time. I'd like to thank KathyG for pointing out how they could fit together, and for helping me to do this. Book-verse.
1. Chapter 1

**Spring After Winter (The Kingly Gifts-Waking Day Fusion)**

**Author: dreamflower02**

**Author's Note:**This is not a new story; this is a combination of two older stories plus a drabble. A reviewer at FFN, **KathyG**helped me to fuse these two stories taking place within the period from three days after the Ring was destroyed to the end of the day that the Ringbearers awakened. The first story was "Kingly Gifts" originally written in 2004 for Marigold's Challenge #6; the title was Marigold's prompt element for the story. The other story was "Waking Day", which was written for Shirebound in the 2013 LOTR GFIC Yule Fic Exchange, which overlapped the previous story and filled in some gaps that I missed in the first story. Finally, the drabble was "Before the Feast" written in 2011 for Back-to-Middle-earth-Month. I also added a small amount of new material, and made some minor edits. Thank you so much, **KathyG **for encouraging me to do this, creating a single cohesive narrative from these stories.

**PART I**

_28 Rethe 3019 ( S.R. 1419 )_

In the dimly lit tent, Aragorn stood watch over his charges. There they lay in healing sleep, four small beings that had gradually stolen into his heart months ago, beginning at an inn in Bree. How was it that such small creatures had such great hearts?

Frodo and Sam lay each in his own cot near one end of the tent, cast deeply into a healing sleep. They suffered far more from sheer exhaustion, starvation and exposure than to any serious physical injuries, except for Frodo's missing finger. But they were covered in innumerable small cuts, bruises, gashes and burns, all needing attendance, lest they infect and cause fever. It was not their physical condition that worried him most, however. When they had been brought in, their spirits had wandered far, and Frodo's, at least, had been reluctant to return to his call. He planned to keep both of them asleep for as long as possible. Two weeks at the least.

The fourth cot lay empty, for there were two hobbits in the third one. When they had summoned Merry from Minas Tirith in haste, it had been in the fear that he would be bidding farewell to all three of his dear ones. But again the hobbits had surprised everyone—especially Pippin.

When Gimli had found the youngest hobbit under the troll, they were certain that he was gone. But the spark of life was still there, and with Merry's arrival, it strengthened and remained. Pippin was not yet completely out of danger. He had a broken foot, a dislocated knee, a broken hand, and almost every rib in his ribcage was broken. Fortunately, none of them had pierced a lung. He had also had some serious cuts, resulting in blood loss, and he had ingested a great deal of the vile black blood of the creature he had killed. Three days later, it was clear that if there were no serious infections or setbacks, he would probably recover more quickly than any patient with similar injuries that Aragorn had ever tended.

Merry lay carefully alongside his youngest cousin, clasping Pippin's uninjured hand in his own left hand, sleeping the sleep of the truly exhausted. But Aragorn knew that if Pippin even stirred, Merry would wake instantly.

"My sister has named him Holdwine," said a voice behind him.

Aragorn nodded. He had known when Éomer had come in behind him. "Appropriate. It means 'loyal friend,' does it not?"

"Yes. I have never seen anyone like him. He had every reason to stay behind in safety, and with such a disadvantage as his size gives, none would have thought the worst of him if he had done so, especially as unused to war as his kind are. But that one does not seem to consider his size at all."

"Boromir thought he was a natural warrior. He has the heart for it. But then they all do, in their own different ways. I wish there were some way to show them how much they have done. I do not say repay what we owe them; that will never happen in a lifetime, no matter how much we shower them with. My own debt to them is boundless."

"For myself," said Éomer, "I plan to make Meriadoc a Knight of the Riddermark. He deserves no lesser honour. My sister suggested it, but I believe it only right. There is much else I would give him as well, if he will take it."

Aragorn smiled. "A Knight? I think our valiant young Peregrin also deserves no lesser honour. And Merry would not be happy if his cousin were not so honoured as well. Thank you, Éomer, for an excellent idea. I will make Pippin a Knight of the Citadel. I do not yet know how we will be able to honour these other two, our valiant Ring-bearers, but I will put my mind to it."

x x x

_30 Rethe 3019 (S.R. 1419 )_

Faramir looked at the list of things his new king wanted of him, to be sent to Ithilien. Medical supplies, food, fodder, blankets, and more healers to attend the wounded, all very much as expected. But it was the short list at the end that caused him to twitch his lips in a smile. Perhaps the Lady Éowyn would be willing to help him out with that one, especially considering that some of those items were at the request of her brother, the new King of Rohan. Some of them would be more difficult than others to find on such short notice.

"So, my brother is finally making my dear Holdwine a Knight," Éowyn laughed, and Faramir thought it quite a lovely sound. She did not do that nearly enough, and he found himself slightly jealous that the one thing guaranteed to make her do so was the mention of her little _perian_friend. "Merry will make a splendid Knight! And I see that they will be making his little cousin one also; that will please him. Let us see, what have they asked for? Four sets of livery each, in the colours of Gondor and of Rohan, a new sword for Merry—" A shadow came across her face as she remembered how he had lost the old one. She gave a brief shudder, and shook her head, before continuing. "A new helm for Pippin—apparently his old one was damaged beyond repair. Some of these things will be difficult at such short notice."

Faramir nodded. "The Gondorian livery should not be too difficult. We have a store of livery in the Citadel used by the young pages which will do well for Pippin. But I am not so sure about the livery for Rohan. Your colours are green and white, are they not, with the device of the running horse? I will have to think on that." He pursed his lips. "I think that one of the great merchant houses has green as its colour. They use pages as well, you see. But we will have to see to having the device put on."

Éowyn nodded. "And we will also need to seek the smithy, about the sword and the helm. For the sword, at least, the smith may know whether it would be better to alter a large knife or to make a small sword even smaller. I am not so sure about the helm. What about the silver?"

Now a shadow crossed Faramir's face. "Coin? Coin is not a problem; Denethor was an excellent Steward." There was a touch of bitterness in his tone as he considered his father. "Minas Tirith does not lack for coin, and in luxuries we have a-plenty. It is the more needful things that are in short supply." The other items, on Aragorn's longer list, food and medicine, were not going to be as easily come by. Still the coin gave him an idea of his own. He had his own debt to Peregrin.

x x x

"M—mer?" It was the merest whisper. Merry sat up instantly.

"Yes, Pip, what is it?" It was the first intelligible sound from his cousin since they brought him in from the battlefield. Merry's eyes filled with tears of joy.

"Thirsty."

Merry shot a questioning look to Aragorn, who stood nearby. He had been spending every minute he was not needed elsewhere in the hobbits' tent. He quickly came to Pippin's side, and taking a ewer that stood by the cot, poured out a bit into a cup, and handed it to Merry. "Just wet his lips, to begin with. Then a few drops at a time until he gets this down. If he does not bring it back up, in a short while he may have the same again."

As soon as his lips were wet, Pippin looked fuzzily at Aragorn. "Frodo? Sam?" he managed to croak. His eyes were full of distress.

"They are here, they are alive, they are asleep right over there." He gestured to the two cots at the other end.

"Mmm-hmm," he murmured, satisfied. He swallowed a couple of sips from the cup his cousin held, and drifted back to sleep.

Merry looked at him tenderly, and then up at Aragorn. "Strider? He's going to be all right now, isn't he?" and then he burst into tears. Aragorn gathered him up, and allowed him to weep himself back to sleep in his arms, then he carried him over and placed him into the as yet unused fourth cot. He resumed his own vigil.

"Good evening, Aragorn."

He glanced up at the entrance. "Gandalf."

"It is time that you sought your own bed. It has seen far too little of you these last few days."

Aragorn cast a look at the hobbits.

"I will watch. I think you may trust me in this?" Gandalf's tone was kind but firm.

He suddenly realized how exhausted he was. "Very well. But call me at the least sign—"

The wizard sighed in exasperation. "My dear fellow, go to your bed at once."

He stood up, and then realized that Legolas had come in behind Gandalf and he had not noticed it. That convinced him. "Are you going to escort me to my tent?" he asked the Elf.

"Yes."

_1 Astron 3019 (S.R. 1419 )_

Aragorn felt much better after a night's sleep, he had to admit. Now he turned his attention to the breakfast tray that had been brought in to him. He smiled to himself. A man could get used to this being waited upon.

"May I enter?"

"Certainly, Éomer," he said. "I was thinking of sending for you, anyway, to discuss this matter of knighting our hobbits. Would you care for some breakfast? They brought me enough to feed four Men, or one hobbit."

"No, thank you, I have already broken my fast. Have you given any more thought to honouring the Ring-bearers?"

"Yes, yes I have. That is why I would like to put forward the knighting of Merry and Pippin as soon as may be."

"Aragorn?" Gimli's voice was heard outside the tent. "You sent for me?"

"Yes, please come in." He looked up at Éomer. "Gimli will be of use in this." He took another bite of the bread and cheese in his hand, and washed it down with a sip of ale. "Gimli, I would ask a favor of you. What kind of condition are Pippin's armour and sword in?"

"Well, except for his wee helm, which you had to destroy to get off his hard little head, it is in excellent condition, because I took it to see to as soon as it was removed from him. His sword is fine. As you should know, since you had to pry it out of his hand. I cleaned it thoroughly and sharpened it."

"Thank you. It seems that I will not need to ask that favor of you after all, but perhaps Éomer will?"

Éomer nodded. "Master Gimli, if you would be so kind as to check the condition of my esquire Meriadoc's armour, I would appreciate it very much. He has not had time enough to do so, with attending his cousins."

"It would be my honour. I do believe I know what you lads have in mind, and I completely approve. Well, I had better see to it, then." With a bob of his head, he was gone.

The two kings looked at one another and laughed. "Lads?" chortled Éomer.

Aragorn just shook his head.

x x x

It was only a day since Pippin had first awakened. Merry had transferred his attention now to Frodo, and sat by his older cousin, as he had by his younger. Pippin didn't mind. He could still see his Merry there at the other end of the tent, and it was Frodo who needed Merry now. Besides, all he had to do was moan inadvertently or sigh a bit too loudly, and his cousin returned to him in a flash.

"Merry," he croaked.

His cousin's head whipped round. "Do you need something, Pip?"

"No, just wondering how he's doing, and Sam."

Merry shook his head. For all Aragorn's insistence that this sleep was the best thing for them, it still seemed unnatural to him. "Aragorn says they are doing all right for now."

"And they are," came a familiar voice from the tent's entrance.

"Strider!" said Pippin, almost in his normal voice. It was spoiled by a fit of painful coughing, which brought tears to his eyes from the pain in his tightly-bound ribs.

"Merry, Éomer is asking for you."

Merry gave him a look that said as clearly as words that he knew this was some kind of excuse to get him away from the "sick tent." The King of Rohan had found some such little duties for him several times since Pippin woke up, usually something silly like copying a list or something. But he got up and resignedly went out without argument. Fealty was fealty, after all.

Pippin looked at Aragorn. "He needs to get some rest."

"I know. Right now, this is the best we can do. Unless you want me to put him to sleep like Frodo and Sam?"

Pippin gave a shudder. "Oh, no, don't do that to him."

Aragorn moved to examine his small patient. He started with the left foot, and moved up, quirking an eyebrow in surprise. "You really are healing a great deal faster than even hobbit constitution would account for." He placed a hand on the curly head, curlier and thicker now than it had been before he and Merry had met Treebeard, and considered. Could it be? "Tell me more about the Ent-draughts, Pippin."

x x x

Faramir and Éowyn looked over the items they had managed to garner: from the stores of pages' livery in the Citadel, there were two sets of black silk, and two of serviceable black linsey-woolsey which would fit Pippin excellently. One of the merchant houses did indeed have pages' livery in green, and when they found it was intended for the little _perian_who had helped to slay the Nazgûl Captain, insisted on giving it to them at no charge. Some of the palace seamstresses had seen to sewing on the device of the running horse, and adding a bit of white trim to them. They had chosen two made of sturdy wool for daily wear and two of rich green velvet for formal occasions.

The smith had found a short sword of a kind that was often used by someone fighting with two swords, rather than sword and shield. It needed very little modification to make it suitable for Merry's use. But the helm he had to make, and since it was for the _Ernil i Pheriannath_, he and his apprentices put everything else on hold to work on it day and night until it was finished.

Unasked, Faramir had taken it upon himself to find some other things to send for the _pheriannath_. He had found a goodly store of clothing that had once belonged to him and to Boromir as children: shirts, nightshirts, jackets, breeches and smallclothes. Most of it still looked like new; as sons of the Steward, their clothing was never subject to being handed down. _It's about time these things were of some use,_he thought. No need, of course, for the small stockings and boots. He hesitated as he came across the little gilded shirt of mail that had been his brother's Yule gift the year he was nine. It had been a gift from their uncle in Dol Amroth. Finally, he packed it up with all the rest, along with a message for Aragorn.

And there were two small chests of silver coin, to be the young hobbits' stipend as retainers of Gondor and Rohan. Faramir took out a small pouch of his own, with another note, and slipped it into the chest intended for Pippin.

_3 Astron 3019 ( S.R. 1419 )_

Pippin lay back in his cot, exhausted. Aragorn had allowed him up briefly this day, to see if he could put weight on his left foot, and then had been amazed when he could do so. It had been painful, though, and tiring.

Merry was out on another "errand" for the King of Rohan, but the hobbits were not unattended. In order to persuade Aragorn that he did not need to spend every waking moment in their tent, the other members of the Fellowship were also taking turns watching. Even when Merry was there, Gandalf, Legolas, or Gimli were often there, also keeping watch. Once or twice, they had allowed the King of Rohan to watch as well, but mostly the Fellowship was jealous of its hobbits.

Right now, it was Legolas who sat between Frodo and Sam, singing in Elvish. Pippin quite liked the song. It was not one he had heard Legolas sing before. As the clear Elvish voice faded, Pippin spoke.

"Sing that one again, Legolas, if you please."

The Elf looked over at him in mild surprise. He had been aware that Pippin was awake, but had not realized he was listening so intently. "Certainly, _mellon nin."_ And he began once more the soaring melody that had caught Pippin's attention.

_That's nice,_thought the youngest hobbit. _He called me "my friend" in Elvish, just like he does Strider._ To the sound of the soft singing, he drifted to sleep once more.

x x x

Merry sighed. This time, he had a pile of accounts, lists of horses, that Éomer had asked him to sort out by _éored_. It was so obviously easy busy work, meant to take his mind off his fellow hobbits and keep him away from their tent. The problem was, that while it succeeded admirably in the latter case, it was not enough to succeed in keeping his mind off Frodo, Sam, and Pippin. He sighed again, more loudly, and stacking the documents, he tapped them rather loudly on the tabletop to straighten them.

Éomer gave a wry look to his cousin Éothain with whom he had been discussing which men were to be sent back to Rohan, and which were to remain.

"Holdwine," he said to Merry, "is there something you wish to say to me?"

Merry flushed. "I am sorry, my liege. It is just that I know this task is not truly needful. If I must be away from my kin and friends, I wish I were at least doing something that _needs _doing."

The King of Rohan stood up and walked over to where his esquire sat, on top of two cushions to raise him to the proper height for the table. He placed a hand on the hobbit's shoulder. "Meriadoc, you are only partly right. This _is _a task that needs to be done, though not one which is urgent or important. If Aragorn and I could trust you to actually _rest _when you are in your tent, I could be persuaded to at least find more active tasks for you. But you do not sleep except at your cousins' sides, and then restlessly, as you are awake instantly for their slightest sound or movement. We have discussed moving you out of their tent—"

Merry's head shot up in alarm, and his grey eyes sparked dangerously.

"Never fear. We realized that would probably only make it worse if you could not be with them. What would you suggest, if you had a friend in like circumstance?"

Merry looked at his liege with wide eyes, but could not quite find the words to ask what came to his mind.

"Yes, Holdwine Meriadoc, I consider you a friend. You saved the life of my sister, and you defended my uncle and king in his last moments of life; how could I not think you are my friend?"

"Oh!" While not nearly as demonstrative as Pippin, Merry was a hobbit, and the only proper response to that declaration was to grab the startled Éomer around the waist in a fierce hug.

"I am sorry if I am being difficult," he said finally, letting go. "If I sleep in my own bed at night, would you and Aragorn think that good enough?"

Éomer smiled. "It would be up to Aragorn. He is the healer, after all, not I. But I should say he might consider that a good start."

"Thank you." Grinning, Merry gave him another quick hug, and hopped down from the chair, scattering the cushions. "May I be excused now, my liege?" He barely waited for the young king's nod before bolting from the tent.

Éothain was smirking with thinly disguised mirth. Éomer looked at him sternly. "The _holbyltla_may show their feelings more easily than do Men, but they are not children and there is nothing amusing about their loyalty or courage. Consider where _all_of us might be, kinsman, if not for the loyalty and courage of that one—or of the Ring-bearers."

Éothain flushed. Truly, he liked the little one himself, and admired his courage, but it was hard to keep a straight face around them. They just did not seem to take things seriously, and they had very little grasp of formality around those they thought of as their friends.

x x x

"Legolas?" Aragorn had been looking for the Elf. He did not like sending for his friends when he could avoid it. He supposed he would eventually get used to it, though. It happened more and more frequently now.

"Yes, _mellon nin_?" He was busy currying Arod, crooning in Elvish to the restive steed.

"Do you know of any minstrels in the camp?"

"There are several. What do you have in mind?"

"I think that a lay, honouring our Ring-bearers, would be in order. I cannot reach Frodo, but this above all Samwise would cherish."

"Ah." The Elf smiled. "I think that can be arranged." He glanced at his friend. "You are still tired. I would have come to you, you know."

The King blushed, and shook his head ruefully. "I will remember that the next time," he said.

Legolas watched him walk away. He continued currying Arod, as he put his mind to his new task. The first thing he would need to do was find the three best minstrels for the task. The next thing he would need to do would be to introduce them to Mithrandir...


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**This is not a new story; this is a combination of two older stories plus a drabble. A reviewer at FFN, **KathyG **helped me to fuse these two stories taking place within the period from three days after the Ring was destroyed to the end of the day that the Ringbearers awakened. The first story was "Kingly Gifts" originally written in 2004 for Marigold's Challenge #6; the title was Marigold's prompt element for the story. The other story was "Waking Day", which was written for Shirebound in the 2013 LOTR GFIC Yule Fic Exchange, which overlapped the previous story and filled in some gaps that I missed in the first story. Finally, the drabble was "Before the Feast" written in 2011 for Back-to-Middle-earth-Month. I also added a small amount of new material, and made some minor edits. Thank you so much, **KathyG **for encouraging me to do this, creating a single cohesive narrative from these stories.

**PART II**

_5 Astron 3019 ( S.R. 1419 )_

Pippin opened his eyes. "Bergil! Beregond! When did Bergil get here?"

"He just arrived just this morning, with some supplies and other items that the king had requested." Aside from the bandage still wrapping his head, Beregond seemed little the worse for the battle.

Pippin was overjoyed to see his friends. He had known Beregond survived. Merry had told him, but the last time he had actually seen the guardsman, he had been unconscious in the troll's grasp, just before Pippin killed it.

"I have told him," said Beregond, "of your valour in battle. Did no one ever tell you to pick on someone your own size?"

Pippin laughed, though it made his ribs ache. "I would have done, but there was no one of that description there besides myself!"

Aragorn, Gandalf and Éomer examined the contents of the chests and boxes Faramir had sent. Éomer was impressed with the little sword that had been fashioned for Meriadoc. Aragorn lifted up the small items of clothing. He had an idea of where they had come from. This was most thoughtful of Faramir. He drew forth the gilded mail shirt. "Do you think this will fit Samwise?"

"Ask Gimli. He would be able to tell you, and to make any changes needed for it to do so, if it does not," said Gandalf.

Aragorn nodded. "Gandalf, I know that what we are planning will please Pippin, Merry, and Sam. But I am worried about Frodo. His thoughts remain elusive; he is not really with us yet, and I dare not keep them asleep too much longer."

The wizard shook his head. "I am afraid that Frodo has a long and troubled road ahead. Yet he will be glad that we honour his kindred and friends, and that will have to do for pleasing him. His thoughts, as ever, turn on others, not himself."

Aragorn sighed.

_6 Astron 3019 (S.R. 1419)_

Éomer came into the tent, where Pippin and Merry were just finishing up a light second breakfast; Merry had just started to get out his pipe and light it.

"Meriadoc, come walk with me." The young king looked very serious.

Startled, and wondering if perhaps he had committed some breach of courtesy, or perhaps made some mistake that would need to be reprimanded, he excused himself to his cousin and went out.

Pippin felt a bit alarmed himself, wondering if Merry was in any trouble, when Aragorn entered. He, too, looked serious.

"Peregrin—" he started.

"Strider! Have they taken a turn for the worse?" His eyes flew to where Frodo and Sam lay, as unmoving and silent as ever. He could not think of another reason that Aragorn would be so serious and formal with him.

Aragorn gave a rueful chuckle. "No, Pippin, I did not mean to frighten you. But I do have something serious to talk about, and though it _is _serious, I have hope that you will not find it unpleasant."

The young hobbit gazed at him in wonder.

"You have more than proven yourself, by your loyalty, and your courage, and your prowess on the battlefield. I find myself honoured to know you, and I want to show that. Peregrin, I would make you a Knight of the Citadel."

Pippin's eyes filled; he did not know what to say.

"This is a gift I may give as I will, and though in years to come, I may give it to many Men of renown, this first time, I wish it to be you, who are my dear friend, and of all other warriors, most worthy. Will you accept this gift from me, my friend?"

Speechless, Pippin nodded, and then burst into tears.

Merry and the King of Rohan walked silently for a few moments, Merry puzzled by this turn of events, yet a little afraid to ask what he had done wrong.

Finally, Éomer spoke. "Meriadoc, Holdwine of the Mark, you have given me your fealty as my esquire, as you did for my uncle. I have been honoured to have that fealty from one of such proven courage and heart. Now I wish to know if you would care to honour me with your fealty as a Knight of the Riddermark?"

Merry stopped, and stared. "A knight?"

"Yes, you would be Sir Meriadoc, a Knight of Rohan. Would this please you?"

"Oh, yes!" He turned shining eyes on his King.

"Very well; tomorrow you shall receive this honour. I believe that your cousin may have something to tell you when you return to him."

Merry turned around and looked at the tent from which they had come, and saw Aragorn coming out with a large grin on his face.

_Oh joy! _he thought. _Pip's going to be a knight, too!_

x x x

"Now you must understand, Pippin, that what I give to you is a part of the ceremony; I do not want you to tell me that you cannot accept it, or that it is 'too much'. This is part of what a king does." Aragorn gestured to the box beside him.

Pippin nodded.

He lifted out the sets of livery. "Four of them, two for everyday use, of serviceable material, and two of black silk for feasts and so forth. You will wear one of the latter for your knighting, and also when we show honour to Frodo and Sam. They will be waking up in a few days, and we plan to celebrate then. We also have a new helm for you, and Gimli has made your armour and sword to gleam like new. There are also a few items of clothing here, shirts, nightclothes, smallclothes, and such."

"Thank you, Aragorn." Truly he was grateful for the clothing. His own had been pretty nearly ruined since their capture by the Uruk-hai, and there had not been a chance to replace much of it, save for his livery. And the livery he had worn to battle was ruined. Only his Elven cloak had escaped destruction.

"After your knighting, I will present you with your stipend—a gift of money. This is something that all retainers of a court receive, so I do not wish to hear any objections to it."

"Money? Aragorn, you are not buying my loyalty." Pippin looked mildly offended.

"I told you, it is part of it. A retainer owes certain duties to his king, and his king must insure that the retainer is able to carry out those duties. Trust me on this, Pippin." Aragorn had no intention of telling him that the stipend he had arranged was about three times more than was customary, nor yet that Faramir had added a goodly sum to it. Nor did he intend to mention that a stipend was an annual custom. Surprises were always nice. He managed to avoid laughing as he imagined the look on Pippin's face a year from now, when a messenger would arrive at his door with another such pouch, equally full.

"Now, do you remember your oath?"

"I could never forget it." Indeed it was seared into his brain, those words spoken so solemnly to the proud and stern Denethor, who had accepted them both seriously and mockingly. He ducked his head to hide the tears that suddenly sprang to his eyes.

Aragorn placed a finger under his chin and lifted his face. "It will be different this time, Peregrin. This pledge will be given and taken in love."

"I know."

"One final thing, and in this I speak as your healer, and not your king. You will be allowed out of bed for this ceremony, but you are not to put any strain on that knee by attempting to kneel to me. My opinion is, that you are about the right height standing as anyone else would be kneeling, anyway."

Pippin laughed. "Strider! I might disobey the king, but I would never be so foolish as to disobey the healer!"

"Aha," Aragorn laughed, disbelievingly, "you will have to prove that to me, imp." He gave the hobbit's nose a tweak, and got up to leave. "Tomorrow, someone will be in to help you prepare for the ceremony. I will see you again in the morning, to make sure you will be up to it."

x x x

Éomer looked at Merry, and smiled as he opened the large box. "We have here, gathered for us in Mundburg by Aragorn's most excellent Steward and my sister, some items we will need on the morrow."

He showed Merry the livery, and the clothing; Merry was suitably impressed, and very glad for the clothes, especially for the smallclothes. His own undergarments were in an embarrassing state, and he'd had no chance to do anything about it.

"My liege?" Merry looked at his king with a troubled gaze. "I have no sword to lay at your feet. My sword—" He stopped. He didn't like to remember what had happened to his sword after he had stabbed the Witch-King.

"As to that," Éomer replied, and he drew forth from beneath his seat the sword that had been sent for Merry.

The young hobbit's face glowed, and his eyes glistened as he took the blade from his King's hand. It was longer than his barrow-blade, and was very clearly a small sword and not merely a large knife. He looked at Éomer with a question in his eyes, and received a nod. He stood up, and moving to the center of the King's tent carefully made a few of the practice passes that he had been taught by Boromir.

"This is a wonderful blade!" He looked at it with a gleam of pride. "How can I ever thank you!"

"You will be laying it at my feet on the morrow, Holdwine. That will be thanks enough. One more thing I should mention before then: you will also be receiving an amount of coin as gift for your knighting. This is customary, and I will not hear of you refusing it. It is the duty of a king to gift his retainers, and a matter of honour for me. If you do not accept it, it will diminish me, do you understand?"

"No, not really, my liege, but I will take your word for it." Merry was so thrilled with the sword that he didn't want to be thinking about some token gift of money that he'd rather not be bothered with anyway.

"Now I have a question for you: your father is the head of your clan, and normally I would need his permission to make you mine. But he is far away, so it would be difficult for us to ask him about this. Do you think him likely to be offended that you take this step without his permission? I do not wish to make trouble for your homecoming."

Merry looked startled at the question; he'd never even thought about it. "No, my Da is not like that. I am of age by my people's reckoning, and the decision is mine to make. He'll not be upset by it." But it made Merry wonder if Pip could say the same about Uncle Paladin—Pip was not of age yet, and the Thain could be a little touchy about some things. But he wasn't going to say anything. If he was going to be a knight, he wanted his cousin to be a knight also.

"Very well, then, take your gifts and go back to your kinsmen; Éothain will be by in the morning to help you get ready. I will see you at the ceremony."

x x x

Aragorn and Gandalf were enjoying an evening pipe, by the fire outside his tent when the Elf approached.

"Aragorn?"

"Yes, Legolas?"

"Our minstrels have prepared the lay you wished, also a hymn of praise was composed, that the people might sing in their honour. I had wondered if you would care to see." He held forth some sheets of parchment.

He took them, and held them close to the light of the fire, where Gandalf could also see. After a few moments he nodded. "Yes, yes, this is very good. Sam will be delighted with this."

Gandalf smiled. "And if Samwise is delighted, then Frodo will be also. Excellent. So, do you still think to wake them in two days?"

"Yes, yes, I do. We have been turning them and seeing to their needs as they slept, but to keep them asleep any longer risks weakening them."

"I am glad the Eagles were in time," said the wizard.

"As am I. I do not like thinking that I have won my kingdom and my bride on the sacrifices of these small ones. If we had lost them, I do not believe I would have had the heart to claim my throne." Tears glistened in Aragorn's eyes, and Legolas put a comforting hand upon his shoulder.

Gandalf shook his head. "You would have done what you had to do. But I am glad it was not necessary to put you to the test."

Aragorn nodded. But he was still very troubled by Frodo.

_7 Astron 3019 (S.R. 1419)_

Merry was just bringing in an early breakfast tray when Aragorn came in the next morning. He went over to Pippin first, and examined him carefully. He seemed pleased by his recovery. "Eat well, and rest while you can. You will be busy in a little while." For they had decided to hold the ceremonies at noon.

Then he went over and examined the sleeping Frodo and Sam, checking to make sure that their physical wounds were healing well, and that no unexpected problems had developed. He placed his hand upon each pale forehead, and was silent for a moment. Then he nodded. He looked over to Merry and Pippin, who as always, watched his examination of Frodo and Sam anxiously.

"I am very pleased with their progress. I do believe that I will be able to allow them to waken tomorrow."

Overjoyed at this news, Pippin and Merry let out whoops of delight, and Pippin gave a rather hard bounce in the bed. If Merry had not moved quickly, it would have overturned the breakfast tray.

"Sorry," said Pippin.

"We had better eat, before it ends up on the floor."

Aragorn laughed, and took his leave.

They had barely finished eating when Éothain, Beregond, Legolas, Gimli, and Bergil entered the tent.

"It is time to begin preparation," said Legolas. "You will need baths, and we will dress you." He smiled. "Don't look at us like that, young hobbits. You will need the assistance, especially you, Master Pippin. Or do you tell me that you are not nervous?"

Legolas, Beregond, and Bergil saw to Pippin, while Éothain and Gimli took care of Merry. The King of Rohan's cousin also took the chance to drill Merry on the words of his oath.

The sun was near the top of her journey when they stepped outside the tent to the clear area that had been prepared for the ceremonies. Over his objections, Legolas carried Pippin, and sat him down on an upturned bucket that was just the right height. "Aragorn said that he does not want you walking or standing any more than you have to. And he does not want your legs to dangle, either. You will have quite an excellent view of your cousin from here."

Pippin muttered under his breath. Legolas laughed.

"What did he say?" asked Gimli.

"He said that 'Aragorn might be an easy-going king, but Strider the healer is a tyrant.'"

Aside from the members of the Fellowship, several other well-wishers had gathered. There were a few members of the King of Rohan's personal _éored_that Merry knew. And Pippin was pleased to see some of the members of the Third Company with whom he had journeyed to battle. He was especially pleased to see two brothers, Artamir and Adrahil, for the last time he had seen them they had been struck down by the troll he killed. He had worried about them, but had been afraid to ask if they yet lived. Here they were, Artamir with a bandage round his head, and Adrahil with his arm in a sling, but otherwise hale. _Well,_he thought, _it was worth getting squashed by the troll, since I saved them and Beregond after all._

Merry was to be knighted first, and he was more than a bit nervous. There had been no ceremony when he had given his allegiance to Théoden. For love of the king, who reminded him so much of his own father, he offered his sword and his fealty, and Théoden had accepted. They were on their way to war; there was no time for formality. And in the House of Healing, he had given that same allegiance to Éomer, once again, hastily and without ceremony.

Now he would step up and lay his sword at his King's feet, and offer a solemn oath before witnesses. It was a bit daunting, yet there was a feeling of pride as well, that Éomer had found him worthy of the honour.

He stood now, apart and a bit alone near the center of the area, feeling very small indeed. There was a stir, and all the men-at-arms came to attention as the two Kings, accompanied by the White Wizard, approached.

Aragorn and Gandalf stopped at the edge of the clearing, and Éomer went forward a few more paces.

"Approach, Meriadoc."

Merry stepped forward, outwardly confident, inwardly quailing. He knelt and drew his sword, and laid it at Éomer's feet.

"Will you accept my sword and my oath?" he asked, according to formula.

"I will. Speak your oath." The young King of Rohan held out his hands, and Merry reached up and placed his own small ones between them.

"I promise on my faith that I will in future be faithful to Éomer, King of Rohan, and will observe my homage to him completely against all persons in good faith and without deceit.* His enemies shall be my enemies, and his friends shall be my friends, and his word shall be my law, from this day forward."

"And I say: that Meriadoc, Saradoc's son of the Shire, is sworn unto me. His enemies shall be my enemies, his friends shall be my friends, and his welfare shall be my consideration, from this day forward." He looked down with a smile. "Arise, Sir Meriadoc, Knight of Rohan." And he bent and placed a kiss on the hobbit's brow. He picked up Merry's sword and handed it to him. "Receive back your sword, and bear it hereafter on my behalf."

There was an outburst of cheers from the gathered witnesses, and Merry blushed. The King drew him back to his side, and they moved back a few paces.

And now Aragorn moved forward. He went several more paces. He did not want Pippin walking any further than he had to. He stopped about seven or eight feet away from where the young hobbit sat on his bucket.

"Approach, Peregrin, son of Paladin of the Shire."

Pippin stood, gingerly placing the weight on his left foot and leg. His foot was still quite painful, and he had to walk slowly and carefully. Mindful of Aragorn's admonition not to kneel, he gave a profound bow. Even that gave him a twinge in his knee, and he suddenly realized that if he had knelt, he would not have been able to rise without assistance. Drawing his sword, he presented it hilt first to Aragorn.

Aragorn took it gravely. "Are you resolved in this?"

"I am."

Aragorn presented the hilt to him, and he placed his small hands upon it, and without prompting, made the words of the oath: "_Here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor, and to the Lord and King of the realm, to speak and to be silent, to do and to let be, to come and to go, in need or in plenty, in peace or in war, in living or dying, from this hour henceforth, until my lord release me, or death take me, or the world end. So say I, Peregrin, son of Paladin of the Shire of the Halflings."_

"_And this do I hear, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and I will not forget it, nor fail to reward that which is given: fealty with love, valour with honour, oath-breaking with vengeance."**_ Aragorn returned his sword, which he placed in its sheath, and then he drew the young hobbit to his side, and proclaimed: "I present to you Sir Peregrin Took, Knight of the Citadel, Guard of the Tower. He is sworn to my service, let all who see bear witness that good done unto him is the same as good done unto me, and that harm done unto him is the same as harm done unto me. So say I, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Heir of Elendil."

And cheering broke out, the loudest coming from Pippin's cousin and fellow knight. But suddenly he felt his leg begin to give way. Aragorn swept him up, and replaced him firmly upon his bucket, where he sat to receive the congratulations of his friends.

More seats were brought forward, and the Kings sat down next to their new knights. Now they brought out the chests containing the stipends.

Merry's contained a hundred silver pennies. Thunderstruck, he stared up at Éomer, who said, "By the way, when you pass through Edoras on your return, Stybba will be waiting to bear you to your homeland. He is yours."

Mindful of the young King's admonition the day before, he nodded. This was incredibly generous! And Stybba! He had grown fond of the pony before he had to leave him behind. How lovely!

After goggling in amazement at Merry's stipend, Pippin took his with a bit of trepidation. He opened the lid, and shut it quickly after a brief glance and glared up at his new liege.

Aragorn just grinned at him. In a low voice, he said, "One hundred fifty," and then with a twinkle in his eye, added, "Oh, and the pouch contains another fifty from Faramir, as a gift. Which, by the way, you cannot decline, as he is not here."

Pippin's jaw dropped. Two hundred silver pennies? When the average hobbit of the Shire did well to earn the equivalent of fifteen or twenty a year? Even the Thain's annual income did not normally rise above eighty!

But now the new knights began to receive the gifts of their other friends. From Gandalf, they each had a small pouch of leaf ("It's only fitting, my lads, as it is some of the leaf you liberated at Orthanc."). From Gimli they each had a new tankard of proper hobbit size. Legolas handed each of them a small roll of parchment. Merry's was a sketch of himself standing at Théoden's side on the palisade at Edoras, which brought tears to his eyes. Pippin looked at his. "It's Elvish!" he said, puzzled. Legolas bent down and said in his ear, "It is the words to some of the songs you like," and was rewarded by a brilliant Tookish grin.

Some of the Rohirrim presented Merry with a small cask of ale, and several of the Guardsmen had managed to bring Pippin a basket of pastries. Bergil handed Pippin a small bag. "I couldn't find very many," he said, apologetically. Pippin looked in and saw mushrooms. But to his dismay they were not edible. He carefully schooled his face and thanked his young friend, reminding himself to dispose of them later. He gave a shudder. Someone was going to have to teach the lad how to tell what mushrooms were safe.

They sat for a while by their Kings, accepting the gifts, and sharing out the ale and pastries, but Aragorn was keeping a sharp eye on Pippin, who soon began to flag. "I think, Sir Peregrin, that it is time you returned to your cot." It was a measure of how tired he was that Pippin turned a grateful eye on his healer, who lifted him and bore him within the tent.

Merry soon followed, and the party began to break up.

x x x

Later that evening, as Pippin slept deeply, under the influence of a mild pain draught, Merry watched as Aragorn went over and sat next to Frodo.

He placed his hand on Frodo's pale brow, and closing his eyes, whispered, "It is time." Then he turned to Sam, and did the same.

"They will sleep through the night, and the healing sleep will gradually give way to natural sleep. Then, when they are ready, they will wake sometime on the morrow."

Merry nodded. It would be a relief to see them finally wake. He had frequently found himself watching anxiously to see if they were breathing, they had been so still.

He looked up at Aragorn. "Thank you, Strider, for everything."

He smiled. "No, it is I who thank you, and your kin. But I am pleased that you still think of me as Strider. Get some rest, Merry. Tomorrow will be a busy day. Tomorrow will be for Frodo and Sam."

x x x

* The first part of the oath is taken from an actual 12th-century oath. I cannot post a link here, but the information can be found at the site of the SCA group Dragonbear.

** Adapted from _The Return of the King, Book 6, Chapter 1, "Minas Tirith"_


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**This is not a new story; this is a combination of two older stories plus a drabble. A reviewer at FFN, **KathyG**helped me to fuse these two stories taking place within the period from three days after the Ring was destroyed to the end of the day that the Ringbearers awakened. The first story was "Kingly Gifts" originally written in 2004 for Marigold's Challenge #6; the title was Marigold's prompt element for the story. The other story was "Waking Day", which was written for Shirebound in the 2013 LOTR GFIC Yule Fic Exchange, which overlapped the previous story and filled in some gaps that I missed in the first story. Finally, the drabble was "Before the Feast" written in 2011 for Back-to-Middle-earth-Month. I also added a small amount of new material, and made some minor edits. Thank you so much, **KathyG **for encouraging me to do this, creating a single cohesive narrative from these stories.

**PART III**

_8 Astron 3019 (S.R. 1419)_

Éomer looked up from polishing his elbow cops, to see his cousin enter the tent.

"Polishing your own armour?" asked Éothain. "Where's your faithful little esquire?"

Éomer did not acknowledge the lack of formality; Éothain could be formal enough in front of others, but in private he remained the cheeky younger cousin he had always been. "Merry is with the Ring-bearers. They are expected to awaken today. I know that he wants to see them as soon as he can. Aragorn has said that they should wake up before noon. The hobbit will have duties enough this afternoon and evening."

Éothain sobered quickly. "They will awaken today? Is all in readiness?"

"Word is going out even now that this afternoon all the able-bodied are to muster south of the encampment to do Frodo and Samwise honour. The cooks have only been awaiting that word to begin the feast." Éomer paused in his polishing, looked with satisfaction at it, and picked up the other elbow cop and began to polish it. "I have a duty for you this afternoon, as well."

Éothain changed from cousin to warrior immediately. "What would you have of me, my lord?"

"Few enough horses have we left here fit to be mounted, but yours is among them. I must be with the soon-to-be High King and Prince Imrahil. I should like you to take charge of our Riders who are still mounted. Position them alongside those of our people who are afoot. And I should like you to take our Holdwine before you. Merry is unlikely to be able to see his friends being honoured unless he has a vantage point higher than his own two legs, stout as they are."

"That is well thought of, sire," said Éothain, still serious. "Our Holdwine deserves to see his faithful vigil over the Ring-bearers rewarded." The young Rider liked to tease Merry, but he held the hobbit in the highest regard for his courage and loyalty.

"He is also to serve at the Feast of Welcoming tonight, so see that he gets there in plenty of time."

x x x

_Frodo woke and found himself lying in bed. At first he thought that he had slept late, after a long unpleasant dream that still hovered on the edge of memory. Or perhaps he had been ill? _ He seemed to feel all this was familiar, as though it had happened to him before.

"_Where am I, and what is the time?" he said, aloud.__*****_

"You are in Ithilien, and it is eight o'clock in the morning," said a familiar voice. "It is the morning of the eighth of Astron, or the fourteenth day of the New Year, if you want to know."

"Gandalf!" cried Frodo, sitting bolt upright in astonishment. "Gandalf!" he exclaimed again, caught between laughter and tears. There was the wizard, sitting on a stool by his cot.

"Oh, Gandalf," he reached out, to see if this was real, and the wizard caught him in an embrace.

"Yes," he said. "I am here, and you are lucky to be here after all the amazing things you have done."

Frodo lay back down, and a shadow passed across his brow. "It is gone; it is done." He turned his face to Gandalf anxiously. "Sam?"

Gandalf smiled and gestured to the cot on the other side of his. Frodo saw the mound of covers, topped by sandy curls, from which issued gentle snores. He relaxed with a sigh of relief.

"And the others?" he asked, fearfully.

"All the Fellowship live, save poor Boromir."

Frodo nodded, sadly. "I met his brother. He told me." He noticed the cots at the other end of the tent.

"Pippin?" he whispered.

Gandalf nodded. With tears in his eyes, Frodo studied the face of his youngest cousin, a face he had never expected to see again. Relaxed in sleep, the young Took looked all of about seven years old.

Merry chose that moment to enter with the usual morning breakfast tray. He gave a gasp at the sight of Frodo awake, and would have dropped the tray had Gandalf not moved quickly. "Easy, Merry, I have it."

Unencumbered, Merry flew to Frodo's arms, sobbing. Laughing and crying at the same time, they hugged one another fiercely, occasionally drawing back to examine one another's face. Frodo reached his hand up and touched the scar on Merry's brow, and saw his own bandaged hand. He drew back, troubled. But Merry grabbed him again, and the shadow lifted. How could he be sad, with Merry there to cheer him?

Just then, Aragorn entered. "I see you wakened first, Frodo," he said with a smile. He came over and placed his hand on Sam's brow. "I think Sam will probably sleep for another three or four hours; and Pippin was tired out as well, and needs still to sleep. It's a beautiful day, and the weather is mild. Let us take you outdoors, so that you and Merry can visit without waking the sleepers. When they do awaken, we will bring them out to you."

He called two Men, and they carried Frodo out, bed and all, to a nearby grove of beeches, and then the two cousins shared the breakfast tray, as they talked and shared their news. About an hour later, they brought Pippin out to join them, and the three of them shared a pipe, and laughter, and reunion. They tended to gloss over the unpleasant details, and talked of Ents and oliphaunts, waterfalls and White Towers, rabbit stew and Longbottom Leaf. After a while, Sam's cot was brought out as well, though he still slept.

"I thought he might like to waken among the trees," said Aragorn. He turned to Pippin and Merry. "I am sorry to break up your reunion, but the two of you have some duties to attend to. So back to your tent, and into your liveries. I believe, Pippin, that with Merry's help, you may walk that far."

Merry led Pippin away from the beech grove in which his cousin and Sam now lay, his heart full of joy. Leaning on his cousin, they made their way slowly back towards the tent, Merry stopping frequently to let Pippin rest. Frodo followed their progress with troubled eyes.

"Pippin told me he was injured by a troll he killed," he said incredulously.

"So he was," said Aragorn. "Both your cousins had a near brush with death, yet it was averted. And they have recovered remarkably well. I think that we have Treebeard and the Ent-draughts to thank for that."

"They told me that he gave them a drink that made them grow. It's astonishing to me to see them so tall; especially Pip."

"From what I can determine, it did more than simply make them grow and make their hair curl; it seems to have made it possible for them to heal very quickly of any injury or illness. Aside from some lingering effects of their injuries, your cousins are in the bloom of health. Of course, Pippin's injuries are not yet healed completely, but considering the extent of them, he is in remarkable shape considering that two weeks ago we did not think he could live. Here he is walking about; a Man with his injuries who lived to tell the tale would be yet abed and still swathed in bandages."

"They have told me some of it, yet not all," Frodo sighed. "I wish I could have spared them all of this."

"I do not think either of them would thank you for that. They chose what they chose, and it is well for us all that they did. They had tasks of their own to perform, and though their tasks were not as important as the Ring, nevertheless they were important ones." He looked at Frodo, who was stifling a yawn.

"I cannot believe I am still sleepy after sleeping for two straight weeks."

"But during that sleep your body was busy repairing itself from all the abuse it had endured. That in itself is less than restful. Lie back down, and drowse a little more if you feel like it. Sam is near to waking, and you want to be fresh when he does."

Frodo nodded, and slid back beneath the covers; his eyelids, slipping, closed.

Gandalf approached. "I will watch them for a while. I would be here when Samwise awakens. And you have duties to attend to. Your responsibilities extend to more than just four hobbits, no matter how valiant and beloved they may be."

Aragorn nodded. No matter how reluctant he felt to leave them, he knew Gandalf spoke truly.

x x x

Merry led Pippin away from the beech grove in which his cousin and Sam now lay, his heart full of joy.

"Can you believe it, Merry?" Pippin asked, as they stopped briefly for him to rest. "Frodo is awake! I sometimes thought he'd _never_wake up!"

Merry swallowed the lump that suddenly rose in his throat. "So did I, Pip." He laughed to keep from crying with joy. "It was so good to speak to him! I wish we could have stayed with him until Sam awakened."

"He was getting sleepy again. And we are knights now. We have obligations. What duties do you suppose we shall have, today of all days?"

Merry shook his head. "I've no idea. But I have a feeling it will be a good idea to have a late elevenses or an early luncheon before we start, if we are to get any food at all! I'm feeling quite hollow and a bit puckish, if the truth be known."

Pippin's stomach chose that moment to second Merry's suggestion, and both hobbits laughed.

"I see we definitely have to feed your ravening beast!" Merry laughed.

The two made their slow way to the cooking area, which was all a-bustle with activity, and from which many toothsome smells were arising. They made their way to the head cook. "Master Pellas! Can anyone spare some time for a couple of starving hobbits?" asked Pippin, making his green eyes as wide as possible. At that moment, both hobbit stomachs growled loudly.

The cook looked down on them, his scowl at being interrupted turning to a beaming smile as he saw who it was. "There is a mess of lentil soup in the big cauldron over the second fire; Master Meriadoc, you know where to find the bread and bowls. Help yourselves. We have little time to spare, though, for we are busy with the feast for the Ring-bearers!"

Merry turned to Pippin. "Over there are mugs and a cask of small beer. You get us some of that and find a spot to sit. I'll fetch the food."

As Pippin went over to the area Merry had indicated, Merry headed to pick up two bowls and a small loaf of brown bread. The bowls were Man-sized, so perhaps they could make do with one portion apiece, Merry thought. He ladled in the lentil soup, which smelled of onion and garlic and thyme and bay. Then, carefully balancing one large bowl in each hand, with the bread laid across the top of both bowls, he hugged his prize to his chest, and glanced around for Pippin. He finally spotted his cousin sitting against the shady side of a supply tent, and made his slow careful way there. Next to Pippin was a large mug filled to the brim with small beer. "I thought we'd share. It was easier than trying not to spill _two_of these mugs!"

Merry nodded, and passed one of the bowls of soup down to Pippin, and set the other on the grass next to him before sitting down himself. He broke the bread in half and handed one half to his younger cousin. "I thought it would be easier to sop this up with bread than to try and manage those big spoons!"

Pippin nodded, as his mouth was already full. The two applied themselves for some time with eating rather than talking, and when they did speak, it was only to decide that the lentils could have used more garlic and rather less onion, and perhaps just a little salt. When they finished, they got up and went over to the designated water barrel and rinsed the bowls, before returning them to the stack. Then they made their way back to their tent to get into their livery.

The Sun was at her noontide zenith when Merry and Pippin returned to their tent. They were surprised to see one of the healers awaiting them.

She was a stout old dame who had attended on Pippin several times when Aragorn had been unavailable. "_There _you are, young _pheriain_!" she said sternly. "The Lord Elessar asked me to strap up your knee. You should not be wandering all about!" She did not give either hobbit a chance to say a word, but pointed at Pippin's cot. Pippin sat down on its edge and stuck out his injured leg. She began to competently wrap his knee with a bandage to give it extra support, all the while lecturing him on all the orders the King had left, plus a good deal more of her own advice, as well as a long and rambling tale of a patient of hers who had failed to listen to her and had suffered a dreadful relapse.

Merry stood off in a corner, watching intently, and trying not to laugh at Pippin's expression.

"There now!" The healer finished abruptly as she tucked the end of the bandage in with nimble fingers. She stood up, patted Pippin on top of the head, and sailed out of the tent.

The cousins caught one another's eye, and burst out laughing. "She reminds me of Dame Ioreth," said Pippin, when he caught his breath.

Merry nodded, laughing too hard to speak.

Just then Legolas entered the tent, with Gimli at his side. "The two of you sound jolly enough," the Elf said. "What mischief have you been up to?"

"No good, I am sure," added Gimli with a wink.

Merry and Pippin tried to look wounded at the accusation, but they were altogether too happy to manage it. "You would have had to be here," said Merry. "It's one of those things that won't sound nearly so funny explained."

"Besides," added Pippin, "today is much too happy a day _not_to laugh! What are you doing here?"

"We are here to help you into your armour, for it is time for each of you to report to your respective companies," said Gimli. "Pippin, you are to report to the Third Company, and Merry, you are to report to othain once you are both ready."

"There is to be a ceremony for Frodo and Samwise," said the Elf, "and a feast afterwards, in their honour. The two of you will serve at the feast. But Aragorn had orders for you, Pippin: you are to rest until it is time; you are to sit down between removes; and if at any time you feel a weakness, you are also to sit down. And you will be resting immediately afterwards as well. He said to remind you that he is your liege now, and you had better obey those orders."

Pippin nodded. "I'll do just as he says. I don't want to spoil things for Frodo and Sam by having a setback."

Merry looked at him in astonishment. "Who are you, and what have you done with my cousin?"

Pippin laughed. "I _do _have some sense, Merry."

"Well, I must say that being squashed has had a good effect on you, if that is so."

Pippin gave his cousin a light blow on the shoulder, and they spent a minute swatting at one another playfully. Truthfully, both were in such high spirits to have Frodo finally back that if they could have, they would have been rolling about on the floor wrestling.

"All right, laddies," said Gimli, "that's enough of that. You are both knights now and need to have a bit of decorum."

They burst out laughing. "Who ever heard of a hobbit with decorum?" said Pippin.

"Oh, I don't know, Pip, your father has his moments." This made them giggle.

Legolas shook his head. "Let's get you both into your livery. Perhaps that will straighten you up."

Both hobbits turned immediately to get out their gear; being knights was still a joy and a novelty to them. After they were dressed, they separated, each to his own company of comrades. Merry went to be among the _éoreds _of the King of Rohan, and Pippin took his place with the Third Company. But they had prepared for him, and had a small seat for him.

x x x

It was Gandalf's laughter that wakened Frodo for the second time: laughter that lifted his heart and washed over him like a waterfall in Rivendell, brisk as a breeze through the _mallorns_of Lothlorien, heady as new ale in _The Green Dragon_. His happiness rose even higher at the sound of Sam's voice. He lay listening to Sam with his eyes closed.

"_How do I feel? Well, I don't know how to say it. I feel, I feel—I feel like spring after winter, and sun on the leaves; and like trumpets and harps and all the songs I have ever heard!"_ There was a pause and a brief sound of movement from the cot, and then the dear voice went on in a more sober tone. "_But how's Mr. Frodo? Isn't it a shame about his poor hand? But I hope he's all right, otherwise. He's had a cruel time."_

Frodo could not bear to hear the least hint of sorrow from Sam. Opening his eyes, he sat up and laughed aloud. "_Yes, I am all right, otherwise. I fell asleep again waiting for you, Sam, you sleepyhead. I was awake early this morning, and now it must be nearly noon."_

"_Noon? Noon of what day?"_

Frodo listened to Gandalf explaining dates to Sam, and speaking of the King. Sam's astonished expression delighted him, and he resolved to say nothing of all he'd learned from his early morning visit with his cousins. Let the surprises unfold this day for dear Samwise; it would be a marvelous thing to see his face as each new wonder was revealed.

His attention was drawn back to the conversation when he heard Sam ask about clothes. He'd been wondering that, himself. They'd both wakened in very comfortable, if slightly oversized nightshirts, and he recoiled at the thought of putting back on the things they had worn in the Black Lands. At least he could tell they had been cleaned, if not mended, for they did not stink of Orc or ash. His thoughts began to stray to the horrors of the Black Land, but not for long.

Gandalf was handing something to them, and one of them was shining brightly.

"_What have you got there? Can it be—?"_ Frodo was as astonished as Sam to see what the wizard held forth to them.

"_Yes, I have brought your two treasures. They were found on Sam when you were rescued, the Lady Galadriel's gifts: your glass, Frodo; and your box, Sam. You will be glad to have these safe again."_

Gandalf helped Sam out of the bed. The little gardener seemed surprised that he needed such help. "I'm sorry, Mr. Gandalf. I seem to be all weak and wobbly-like, so to speak. I can't think why."

"Can't you?" the wizard asked gently. "You and your master came through much privation and pain, and are still weak." He helped Sam to wash and dress, and then did the same for Frodo. Frodo said nothing, but meekly accepted the help. His bandaged hand felt awkward, and he, too, felt "all weak and wobbly-like."

As Gandalf helped them to sit back down upon their cots, a Man came in bearing a tray. His eyes widened at the sight of the hobbits, and he gave Gandalf a grave bow. Then he placed the tray atop a chest that stood at the foot of Frodo's cot, and with another bow—this one directed at Frodo and Sam—he backed out of the beech grove.

"Now, my lads, shall you have a bit of sustenance?" The tray held tumblers of a bright orange-coloured juice, a teapot and cups, a dish of sliced peaches, some cheese, and some small bread rolls. Gandalf handed each of them a tumbler of the juice. Sam sniffed it suspiciously, and Frodo took a wary sip, and then his face lit up.

"This is delicious!" he said with delight, taking another far less-cautious drink.

Sam followed his master's lead, and his eyes widened. "It tastes like sunshine!" As the hobbits ate, the wizard went to the edge of the copse, and summoned a guard to take a message to the King.

Gandalf placed some of the fruit, cheese, and bread upon a plate between them, and picked up one of the rolls to pick at, to keep them company and satisfy hobbit etiquette. When the two hobbits were sated, surprisingly before they had finished all, he led them out of the curtained beech grove and into the bright Ithilien sunshine.

x x x

Aragorn and Legolas were in Aragorn' tent speaking together about the minstrel who had been chosen to sing when a voice outside said, "May we come in?"

"Yes, Elladan!" Aragorn responded, as he recognised his foster brother's voice.

The tent flap opened, and not only Elladan, but Elrohir and Gimli as well, entered. "We have something for you, Estel."

Gimli handed Elladan the cloth sack he had been holding. Elladan opened it, and took out something that shone in the dim lamplight that illuminated the tent. He handed it to Aragorn.

Aragorn looked at the gleaming circle of silver. "What have you _done_?" he exclaimed in shock, only to gasp as he saw another similar circlet drawn forth from the sack. Both of them were much smaller than he had last seen them. "_Ada _will be most displeased!"

These were the silver circlets that had been wrought for the twins, long ago, and marked them as Lords, the sons of the Master of Imladris. They wore them on all formal occasions. And now they would no longer fit the twins.

"On the contrary," answered Elrohir. "I think he would be glad that we may assist in honouring the Ring-bearers. You do intend to make them Lords, as we had heard you say. Here are the trappings you need. We asked Gimli to alter them so that they would fit the hobbits."

Aragorn embraced each of his brothers in turn. "I cannot thank you enough. I was prepared to proclaim them without any circlets of honour, and have those made in Minas Tirith after we arrived there. But this is much better." He turned to Gimli. "My thanks to you, as well, Gimli. The work is superb; I cannot even tell where you made the alterations."

Legolas, who had been standing silently by, took one of them to look at. "Truly, they appear to have been made just for Frodo and Sam!"

The Dwarf blushed. "'Twas a simple enough matter. Ah! I nearly forgot." He handed the sack in which he had carried the circlets up to Elladan. There clearly was still something in it. "I fashioned a couple of mementoes for the both of you from the silver I removed."

Elladan reached in and drew forth what he found inside. Opening his hand, there lay upon his palm two miniature replicas of the circlets, fashioned into brooches.

Elrohir took one of them, and then each brother fastened it upon the shoulder of his cloak. They were beaming.

"Our thanks to you, Gimli," said Elladan.

Gimli grinned. The brooches were his thanks to the twins for the sacrifice of their own circlets for Frodo and Sam, as well as his way to return the leftover silver. Before he could explain any of this, a voice called from without the tent: "My lords! A message for you!"

"Enter," said Aragorn.

A young soldier came in and briefly bowed before saying, "My Lord Elessar, the Lord Mithrandir has sent to say that _both _the Ring-bearers are awake now!"

x x x

Merry had been pleased to learn of Éomer's orders. Truthfully, he had resigned himself to seeing nothing but knees, and to know he'd have a vantage point atop Éothain's big bay, Magen, was a wonderful surprise. Éothain had arranged the scarcely threescore horses on either side of the rest of the Rohirrim who were a-foot, and stood in orderly ranks in between. Éothain and Merry were right at the front of the horses on the right side, across from the Swan Knights and the troops from Dol Amroth, and just up from the Guardsmen of the City, who were all a-foot. He sighed; poor Pippin would not have such a vantage point as he did.

Just then, Éothain tapped him on the shoulder. "Sir Holdwine, look!" He gestured towards the Guardsmen. There in the middle of the third rank he saw Pippin sitting on the shoulders of a tall fellow.

Merry laughed and shook his head, then glanced back and up at Éothain. "That's a sight I've seen before, but not in many a year! When he was a little lad, he often rode atop Frodo's shoulders, just so!" He was glad to know that Pippin, too, would be able to see.

Just then a cheer went up and he looked the other way to see them, looking very small and lost beside Gandalf. The three figures began the walk between the ranks of shining troops, all cheering:

"_Long live the Halflings! Praise them with great praise!"_

And Merry's voice joined in.

x x x

Pippin looked about; all he could see was a sea of knees, in every direction. This was frustrating, and he heaved a sigh of exasperation. Artamir looked down at him. "Sir Peregrin, if it would not offend you, I would be willing to lift you up so that you might see, when the ceremony begins."

"Like a little lad on his father's shoulder? Well, I will put my dignity aside then, if you don't object, for I do not wish to miss seeing this for the world."

So Artamir lifted him up, and put him on his shoulders, and Pippin could see the mighty host drawn up all in honour of his cousin and Sam. Soon enough, he saw their small figures escorted by Gandalf, approaching to the sounds of many voices, his own among them, lifted up in a hymn of praise.

And Pippin watched, swollen with love and pride, as they ran to embrace Aragorn, and he set them upon his throne, and cried out, "_Praise them with great praise!"_

Éomer sat upon one of the high seats that had been carved from the earth. Aragorn was next to him, and beyond him was Prince Imrahil, their banners snapping in the wind behind them. All of them were watching Gandalf shepherd his two small charges between the ranks of cheering Men. They looked like tiny children, frail and wasted. Heretofore he had only seen these two in sleep—that deep and almost frightening healing sleep. Now they walked before the wizard dressed in the ragged clothing they had worn when the Eagles brought them forth from the destruction of the Black Land.

How had this all come to pass? he wondered. He was never meant to be King after his uncle; that had been Theodred's place, and he had always imagined himself at his cousin's right hand. But Fate and the Weaver had other plans, and now he sat beside his brother King, beside the High King, preparing to honour the two small beings who had braved the desolation of Mordor and risked the fires of Mount Doom to bring about the downfall of Sauron.

Men had played their part and then some, in fighting the forces of the Enemy. But the true victory had come not from mighty fighters, but from ones whose strength came from loyalty and sheer stubbornness. He smiled and glanced briefly at the ranks of the Rohirrim. There was Merry, seated before Éothain, who had taught him just what loyalty and determination meant to a _holbytla_.

The shouts of praise and the cheering rang out louder and louder as the three came closer. He realised that he too had joined in the shouts of praise. They were about a rod away, when Gandalf stopped moving. They took one step, another step, and then stopped as Aragorn rose.

An expression of delight appeared on both their faces, and they dashed forward, all formality forgotten, into the embrace of their dear friend. Frodo reached him first, but Sam was only a step or two behind, and as they were caught up in the King's long arms, Éomer heard Sam say, "_Well, if this isn't the crown of all! Strider, or I'm still asleep!"_

"_Yes, Sam, Strider. It is a long way, is it not, from Bree, where you did not like the look of me? A long way for all of us, but yours has been the darkest road."_ And then, to the astonishment of many, but not of those who knew him best, the Lord Elessar bent his knee to the Ring-bearers, and then he took them and turned and placed them upon his own seat, and Éomer saw the look of pride and the tears of joy and sorrow that left their traces on the High King's face, and he realised he was weeping, as well.

Then Aragorn cried out: "Praise them with great praise!"

And the glorious shout of acclaim rose up like the sound of thunder. After the mighty shout, the minstrel came, and sang for all the lay of "Frodo of the Nine Fingers and the Ring of Doom." The tears of joy ran down Pippin's face unnoticed as he drank in every word of the song.

The lay finally ended as the Sun went down, and Merry and Pippin were taken to the great pavilions where the feast was to be served, and were served first, so that they might not grow hungry as they served others.

Then they stationed themselves at the back of the pavilion near the cookfires. Merry had found a little barrel for Pippin to sit on while they waited.

Pippin felt relieved as Merry pushed the overturned barrel his way and pushed him to sit down upon it. Strapped up as it had been, and in the excitement of it all, he had nearly forgotten his knee, but now it was beginning to throb a bit. Soon enough the high and mighty among the host would be having their feast, along with the two guests of honour, Frodo and Sam, who were seated to Aragorn's right. Their other companions-Gandalf, Legolas, and Gimli-were also at the High Table, along with kings and Princes.

Ingold, who was second cook to Master Pellas, had provided both of them with plates. "Our good King Elfstone himself bade me see you fed _before _you serve at table. That is not, you know, the usual way of things, small masters."

The cousins ate, Merry standing and Pippin seated on his barrel, sharing a goblet of wine. They would have only a few minutes before the guests and their lords would be ready. As they finished up their food and wiped their fingers upon clean towels, Merry looked closely at Pippin. "You are in pain, Pip."

"Not enough to keep me from doing my duty!" was the firm reply.

Merry took a small packet from the pocket of his trousers. "Strider gave me this with strict orders to see you take if I thought you needed it." He sprinkled the powder it contained into the last of the wine in their goblet and handed it to his cousin. Pippin made a face, but dashed it down. "Shame to do that to good wine," was his only complaint.

Merry peeked out through the curtain wall dividing the back of the pavilion from the feasters. Frodo and Sam were seated between Strider and Gandalf, looking overwhelmed.

He glanced over at the little barrel on which Pippin sat, as they awaited the time to serve. His younger cousin looked so splendid in his new livery. And his own had been burnished up as well. He ran his fingers over the horse on his tabard. So much had changed. But they were all alive and together once more.

Pippin stood up, and he and Merry went to join the rest of the squires and pages who were taking up trays to serve their lords.

All rose for the Standing Silence, and then Merry and Pippin took the ewers of wine, and went forth to serve. Pippin poured wine for the Prince of Dol Amroth, who sat near Sam, and then turned, waiting for Sam to recognize him, as he poured his wine.

"_Why, look, Mr. Frodo! Look here! Well, if it isn't Pippin, Mr. Peregrin Took I should say, and Mr. Merry! How they have grown! Bless me! But I can see there's more tales to tell than ours." _

"_There are indeed," said Pippin turning towards him_with a wicked grin_. "And we'll begin telling them as soon as this feast is ended. In the meantime you can try Gandalf. He's not so close as he used to be, though he laughs now more than he talks. For the present, Merry and I are busy. We are Knights of the City and of the Mark, as I hope you observe."_

Frodo laughed at Sam's astonishment upon seeing Merry and Pippin, and then turned his attention to the food: there had been stewed greens, and grilled fish, and roasted fowl and several kinds of bread, and a compote of stewed dried fruit. Though there was little variety, for they were after all, still in an army encampment after a long campaign, it was all quite deliciously prepared. Frodo was sure the fish was freshly caught in the river, and the birds, no doubt, had been hunted that very day.

He was beginning to grow weary, though, and sleepy with the wine. He'd eaten and drunk judiciously—Aragorn had warned them both to take it easy this first day of having solid food to eat. Frodo, though, had begun to feel sated much sooner than he thought he might. He quit eating when he began to feel full, even though his eyes and his mouth both told him he wanted more.

The feast finally ended. Frodo was relieved when Aragorn—King Elessar, he supposed he should get used to saying—stood and gave a toast of farewell. Frodo and Sam, along with Merry and Pippin and the others of the Fellowship, went back to the beech grove where he and Sam had awakened, and where they had spent the morning. Gratefully, Frodo followed his friends back to the beech grove, and they began to tell all their tales. Someone had built a small fire, and the eight remaining members of the Fellowship sat about it, and they talked together of many things.

Aragorn watched carefully over his patients. He was pleased with the way his gifts had been received, and Frodo seemed to be in good spirits. The darkness that troubled him was still there, but it was scattered and dispersed; perhaps it would remain that way, only an occasional cloud to shadow him. Perhaps it would not gather in on him again. Perhaps Frodo could return to his home and his life. Perhaps.

As he began to notice the signs of weariness on them, he was considering telling them the evening was at an end, when Gandalf forestalled him.

The wizard rose. "_The hands of the King are the hands of healing, dear friends. But you went to the very brink of death ere he recalled you, putting forth all his power, and sent you into the sweet forgetfulness of sleep. And though you have indeed slept long and blessedly, still it is now time to sleep again."_

And then Gimli, who had become somewhat possessive of Pippin since finding him under the troll, reminded him that he had only been up a day, and so needed his rest as well. It was hardly necessary; the youngest hobbit was nodding off where he sat.

Aragorn got up and gathered his newest knight into his arms like a child, to carry him; he settled him into the crook of his left arm, and offered his right hand to Frodo, who thought with amusement at how much Pip would object to such treatment if he were awake. Sam supported Frodo's other side, though he too was stumbling from weariness, and Merry walked on the other side of Aragorn, with his hand on Pippin's knee. They walked back to the tent, and Aragorn saw everyone each to his own bed, tucking them in like a fond father.

He turned to leave, and was stopped by a quiet voice. Sleepily, Frodo spoke to him. There was something his friend needed to know.

"Aragorn."

"Yes, Frodo?"

"You know, you don't owe us anything. We did what we had to do. Besides, you gave us your best gift long ago."

"And what was that, Frodo?"

"You gave us your love. Good night, Strider."

x x x

*In Part III sections in italics are quoted directly from _The Lord of the Rings,_from _The Fellowship of the Ring, Book 2, Chapter 1, "Many Meetings" _and from_The Return of the King, Book 6, Chapter 4, "The Field of Cormallen."_


End file.
